Sent
by teamba
Summary: Hiro accidentally sends Elle Bishop back to the eighties where she encounters a young Bennet.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Not by me! Written by half_stack. What happens when Hiro's attempted to be bagged and tagged by Elle Bishop? She gets sent to the past. The eighties to be precise! And a hunky looking stud with feathery blonde hair and blue eyes just so happens to come to her aid- and in due time wind up being her partner. Things get a little weird.

* * *

She had been sent back to a place where she didn't exist- yet. Frustration and fear dwelled in her mind when she realized that there was really nothing she could do about it. "I'm a living anachronism," she said, right before she took a drink. She had been sitting at a bar since early this morning, drinking herself to death. She certainly couldn't drink herself back to the future. So as the alcohol began to inhibit her body, he fingers slowly, one by one, released the glass as she fell off her seat and onto the floor.

She woke, beads of sweat formed on her upper lip, her body, hot, exuding heat instead of electricity. Her first instinct was to run, but the alcohol consumed her like quicksand. She lit up a spark, lighting the dark room, finding books on a shelf and a poster of some baseball player she didn't care to find out. She was twelve when she realized that she could never be in any real danger. With her ability, she could always find a way to _fry_ herself out of a situation. She lay still and motionless until she heard the sound of keys thrown onto a surface. He entered the room, a tall, blonde man with blue eyes wearing an old suit that might've very well been his father's. He disregarded her, looking for something in one of what she presumed to be _his_ closet. She pretended to fall back asleep until he told her that he had already seen her eyes open.

"They messed up on your license, according to the date, it says that you were born in '83. That's only, hmm, three years ago?" he said as he took a seat next to the bed.

"So what," she replied as she rolled over and covered her head with the blanket. He left the room and told her to lock the door on her way out if she wasn't interested in finding out what had happened to her. She waited a few moments after he left, and got out of bed. She slowly walked out of his room, her sparking fingers tracing the walls. She examined his face. It was oddly familiar. What the hell happened to me, she asked as she leaned against the kitchen counter. The place was small, a one bedroom apartment in New York City. He stood across from her, in the process of delving into a freshly fashioned sandwich when he told her of last nights events.

"Some guy was trying to take advantage of you, I just pretended that you were my girlfriend, picked you up, and let you sleep," he said.

"Was that before or after you took advantage of me?" she asked, as she attempted to take the sandwich out of his hands.

"Believe what you want to believe," he said, indifferently. He took a bite of his sandwich and sat down in the adjoining living room. "Like I said, lock the door on your way out," he propped up his legs and turned on the television to a baseball game. "Purse is on the table," he added. She left deliberately forgetting to thank him, as he wondered if he would ever see her again.

* * *

He had always been known for making good decisions, but walking down a dark alley alone at midnight was definitely not one of them. He kicked a soda can across the street and watched the lights turn off from the windows high above. When he heard the footsteps from behind him, he didn't move until they came to attack him first. With one quick step to the side, the mugger missed him, and the attacker quickly pulled out his gun.

"Give me your wallet," he said, having no affect on the man whatsoever.

"Just calm down, alright?" he replied and he suddenly kicked the firearm out of the attacker's hand. Punches were thrown, here and there, until the mugger had picked up his gun from the ground and pointed it at the man's forehead. In an instant his life flashed before his eyes until a blue streak sent the man with the gun to the floor. He looked behind him and saw the same blonde woman he had save the night before. "How the hell did you do that?" he asked her as he got up and brushed the dirt off his jeans. She said she'd explain if he offered her a place to stay, and he did. "Now we're even," he said, as they walked up the stairs to his apartment.

"I'm not from here," she began to tell him. They were both sitting on the couch, beer bottles in their hands. It took him a moment to digest everything, the Company, her powers, a Japanese man that controls time and space. "What's your name anyway?" she said as she circled the rim of her bottle with a sparked finger.

"Call me Noah," he said, setting his half-full bottle down. She nearly broke the bottle she was holding, the revelation of his name needing more time to digest than a bad meal. He asked if there was something wrong, but she just shrugged it off and went to bed.

She was given the privilege of his bedroom while he slept on the couch. Keeping her eyes wide open, she wondered why the hell she was in this mess. She didn't bother asking for his last name, she knew that something so surreal could only happen to her. She shivered at the thought of Bennet seeing her drunk and wasted. She never really knew where she stood with him, he was not in the least a father figure to her, not wanting anything to do with her, but always being there when she was in a ditch she couldn't climb out of. A mission with him played through her head. It was the first time she'd met Gabriel- Sylar. She rolled over and realized that she was sleeping in Bennet's bed. But technically, he wasn't "Bennet" yet. As far as she knew, she probably changed the course of history forever, but that was everyone else's problem now.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, she saw him lying on the couch, a myriad of books open everywhere, including on top of his head. She cleared her throat, and he awoke, rubbing his eyes as he examined her wearing his clothes.

"I assume Doc Brown didn't pack any clothes," he said dryly as he opened the blinds and let in the sunlight.

"What's all this?" she asked, pointing at the different books on the table and floor.

"Just trying to find a way to," he opened the refrigerator and took out a carton of milk, "get you back home." He poured a glass for himself and her.

"Good luck with that," she replied as she reluctantly took a sip. He handed her a slip of paper,

"This is the address of a man that might be able to help you- or, you know, actually _believe_ you." She grabbed it from him,

"Chandra Suresh?" He told her that he was an Indian professor that was featured in the newspaper weeks ago.

"So tell me," he continued, "this Company, is it up and running by now?" He opened another book and began to scan through it.

"I can't tell you-"she answered.

He cut in, "Right, because it might, you know, alter the future and everything."

She replied, "No, it's not that-"

"You don't trust me." He said, answering his own question.

She replied by making up a bogus line about how it was "against protocol to talk about the Company to anyone but her partner."

"Who's your partner?" he asked as he leafed through another book.

She didn't know how to answer him. In twenty years from now, you're going to be my partner, didn't seem to cut it. "Some guy," she said, "with horn rimmed glasses."

He nodded and skimmed the page of a book, "My dad had a pair of those."

It was oddly amusing for her to see Bennet so young and naïve. He didn't look anything like what she'd imagined, and he certainly didn't act it. He would've never given her the time of day. Elle laughed inside as he ran his fingers through his feathery blonde hair. This _was_ the eighties. "Noah." It was strange calling him that. To her, Noah was an entirely different person.

"Yes?" he replied. She didn't bother continuing her sentence. Instead, she picked up a book and began to read through the tab marked T for time-manipulation. Inside she thanked him; she just couldn't bring herself to say it out loud.

* * *

That night they found themselves at the same bar he retrieved her from. He didn't bother to make any conversation with her, ignoring her as he looked up at the television screen. She squirmed in the clothing she wore, they had stopped by a store and picked up a few articles of clothing. "I look like I'm trapped in a Duran Duran music video," she had said. Earlier that day, he managed to get a hold of Dr. Suresh and they was to meet him at the bar that night. Awkward silences didn't bode well for her, so she decided to make small talk.

"So… what do you do?" He looked at her as if she really shouldn't be asking the question.

"I work… with paper." He took a sip of his drink and tipped the bartender.

"Paper." She said, a matter a factly. She continued, "Or is that what they _want_ you to say." He began to think that she was insinuating something,

"I _write_ for the paper," he added. Moments later, Dr. Suresh arrived and they offered him a seat. Elle discreetly showed him a glimpse of her ability and astonished the professor.

"All of these years, I always knew the evolutionary code existed," he said.

"Is there anyway you can get me home?" She asked. A hopeless expression fell on his face.

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do. The only way back is the way you had arrived." She sighed and nodded her head. "I'll try my best to locate any individual who's capable to bring you back, but for now, it's just a matter of... _time_. I'm very sorry." He left a copy of a book he was working on. She rested her head on the bar and cursed Hiro under her breath. This was worse than level five.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Noah headed off to work early and Elle decided to follow. He was unaware that she lurked behind him, taking the stairs instead of the elevator, getting a glimpse of her not-that-soon-to-be partner. He was dressed in a suit and tie, looking more like his "old self" minus the glasses and with the addition of feathery blonde hair. He entered the building marked New York Times as Elle wondered how the hell he got himself into the Company. She waited a few moments before entering and he was out of sight. She asked the receptionist if she could see him, and the woman asked for her name. "Claire Butler." The receptionist sent her, "three floors, second door on the left," and she entered his office to see him hard at work.

He didn't bother looking up when he said, "What do you want, Elle?" He was smarter than she'd thought. She helped herself to a seat and propped her feet on the table.

"My life back, my cell phone, maybe clothes that aren't neon or mesh." He crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it across the room into a trash can.

"I saved your life- well- we're even on that; for the time being- I've given you a place to stay, I contacted an eccentric professor for you and I haven't seen the slightest notion of gratitude," he said as he loosened his tie.

She crossed her arms and asked, "Then why do you do it?"

He gently pushed her feet off his desk and said, "Because no one else will."

* * *

She was technically a dead man walking, and she realized that her life here wasn't so different compared to life, "in the future." Hell, it was easier for her here, no assignments, no bagging and tagging, and yet she was still stuck with Bennet who didn't really seem to care if she fell off a cliff. She found herself staring up to sky, accompanied by pigeons on the Deveaux rooftop. "So this is what it's like to be Claude," she said. She pondered a few moments until it hit her- she needed to find the Company.

* * *

She got up around midnight and looked through Noah's phonebook for any names under Nakamura or Petrelli. She dialed a number and a woman replied, "Who is this, and why the hell are you calling at this hour?" Elle let out a shriek of accomplishment and woke Noah up. He rose out of bed and angrily threw a pillow at her.

"Angela Petrelli?" She asked. "Who is this?" the woman replied. "My name is Elle Bishop, I need your help."

"Elle, you should still be in bed. Is your father home?"

"She thinks I'm three years old!" She said to Noah. She continued on the phone, "I know about the organization you and my father are a part of. I'm in a huge mess and I need your help to find a way home."

"Elle, I think you need to go back to sleep dear." Angela replied.

"She thinks you're nuts," Noah said flippantly.

"No, Mrs. Petrelli, I'm Elle Bishop, from _the future_."

"Elle-"

"I can prove it to you. I, um, you have two sons, Nathan and Peter. Nathan grows up to be a senator and Peter, well, Peter almost blows up New York." Silence came from the phone. Elle continued, "You'll have a granddaughter named Claire, and a man named," she looked over at Noah who was now listening intently at the insane phone conversation, "-well, I can't say his name right now, but he's assigned to look after her, she's blonde like me and- you've got to believe me!"

Angela waited a few moments before she spoke, "Listen very carefully. All of the events you have described- I've dreamt about them. Do not do anything rash or stupid; Kaito's idiotic son may have already altered the future. How long have you been here?"

Elle let out a sigh of relief, "A few days."

"Where are you staying?"

"Noah Bennet's apartment."

Angela replied after a moment of silence, "You need to leave."

"I have nowhere else to go."

"That's not my problem; do you realize what you've done?"

"Please. I just need to get home-" The line disconnected and Elle sat, wiping a tear from her eye before Noah could sense her act of vulnerability. She collected herself and headed towards the door.

"Where are you going?" he asked, catching her hand before she reached the door.

"I have to leave."

"Who was that?" He rested his hands on her arms, something he always did- or, _will do_, while interrogating her.

"No one important" she tried to make her way past the door but he stopped her again,

"Hey, you're not taking orders from anyone anymore, remember?" Elle thought it was very un-Bennet like for him to say that rules should be avoided, and she thought it was very unlike _her_ to run her hands through his hair and kiss him. Never in a million years did she ever think that this would ever happen.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

She woke, beads of sweat covering her bare skin, barely covered by a blanket. She lay in Bennet's bed, where it all began. He was missing, again, and she held her head and memories of last night's event rushed through her mind. Feeling a little disgusted, she groaned and put on a large shirt she found on the floor. She walked out to the living room and saw him looking out the window. She turned to the kitchen and was shocked to find a peculiar man eating breakfast.

"Waffles?"

Her first instinct was to electrocute him, but then again, he was her only ride home.

"Hiro-" She started to yell but he interjected,

"I am very sorry. It was an accident. I promise."

Noah broke his silence, "Came in this morning while I was-" he glared at Hiro who was stuffing his face with food, "-in the shower."

"Sorry." Hiro responded.

"I have been stuck here for three, four, hell! I don't even remember how many days, and all you can say is that it was an accident? Do you even know how messed up the future must be now?" Elle raved, sparks starting to form in her palms.

"Yes. That is why, we must erase his memories." He pointed to Noah.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Elle asked.

Noah replied- "Oh no, no one's erasing anything-"

"We must. The future is at stake. You are very important."

Noah glanced at Elle, "Am I?" he said quixotically.

Hiro continued, "Yes! You are the cheerleader's fath-"

Elle covered Hiro's mouth before he could finish. "What are you doing!?" She asked him, "He can't know that-"

"Ah yes. But if he gets his memories erased, he can. You," Hiro said pointing his fork at Noah, "are the cheerleader's father."

"Father?" Noah asked.

"Yes! You work for a Company and you help Peter Petrelli fight Sylar."

"Ok, now it sounds like he's pulling this right out of his ass," he said to Elle.

"What am I pulling?" Hiro asked earnestly. He continued- "You help fight villain! Like her-"Hiro pointed his fork at Elle.

"Wait- do, did you know me?" He asked Elle. But before she could answer, Hiro started to teleport.

"I'll be right back!"

"No!" Elle yelled, "You are not going anywhere- wh- where the hell did he come from?" The Haitian stood, silently, near the door.

"I told you, I would be right back. Now, we must erase your memories." Hiro said to Noah.

"Wait, no-"

"Please, it is very important that you don't remember this week."

"But… I won't be able to remember her."

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Weeks later, Elle was back to her normal life, the routine of taking orders from her father who recently assigned her to a scientist named Mohinder Suresh. She wonders if his father had ever told him the story about a woman trapped in the past. She's parked in an alleyway somewhere in California. She throws her drink, a giant cup of blue slush, onto the ground and walks out of a van. She sees her partner, nose botched up, holding a gun to a man's head. "Hey you." She says as she walks closer to them.

"Elle." He replies.

"You know her?" Mohinder asks as the man in horn rimmed glasses calmly stands.

"Oh yeah." She wonders if he remembers anything. That was the start of an eventful day for her- she got shot, and he "died" these events hosted at a lovely sunlit beach.

* * *

Days later, she's back into his life, and he's back into hers as she enters his cell and catches his red rubber ball before he does.

"Thanks for shooting me in the arm," she says, as she tosses the ball back to him.

"Better there than your chest, or your face," he replies, continuing to throw the ball against the wall.

"No glasses?" She asks him, examining his face. His hair now dark and thinning, and laugh lines that marked his sarcasm over the years.

"Only temporarily," he adds, "not even Claire's blood can heal my impaired vision." She thinks back to the night she woke up in his room. She had the choice to leave, but she stayed and found herself in a heap of trouble. Noah remains silently throwing the ball back and fourth as Elle leans against the wall. Her thoughts go back to the night she kissed him. He had stopped her and told her that she would regret it, but she did it anyway. Sparks flying, literally, as they intertwined. She's interrupted when the ball nearly hits her in the head. "Yup. I'm going to need my glasses." She watches him put on the anachronistic eyewear and sees a whole different person. "What?" He asks her.

"Do you... remember?"

"I may be old Elle, but not that ol-"

"Whatever." He watches her leave and stops throwing the ball for a brief moment. He'd waited twenty years for her to ask that question. Of course he'd remembered. The Haitian was too good of a friend to make him forget. He had a family to take care of, and they're his top priority. But he lived for the moments, moments when she would stop by at his cell asking for the truth. It was like he'd known her his whole life.

* * *


End file.
